Victory
by Shipperwolf
Summary: With the Earth fallen and its heroes overwhelmed, Loki takes it upon himself to step up and do what he thinks is right. But when even HE is unsure of his true motivations, what is 'right' may not be what comes to pass. Sequel to "Defeat", Eventual L/J.
1. Stripped

**Hey Folks! LOOK! MY 100th FIC! PARRRTAAYYY! ^.^**

**Here is some more Lokiness from me: because truly we cannot get enough of him. Can we? No. No we cannot. ;)**

**This fic will be a multichap and follows "_Defeat"_; however, it is not entirely necessary to read aforementioned fic to understand this!**

**Of course, you all may be confused anyway. I'm doing some new things with this one and it may be puzzling for awhile. Please be patient, all will come together in time!**

**Also: Please note that I'm still battling it out with school and may be slow to update sometimes!**

**And of course: I own not a thing. Not even a single strand of golden Thunder God hair. It's sad. I like his hair...**

**Enjoy and see endnotes please!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Jotun Occupation: Day 25<strong>_

The chill hit his head immediately; he felt it, but he did not shiver. He was weaker now, it was true. But he was also more disciplined. Those days of months past, lying in the wretched cold of the medical facility had taught him something about himself. When he was weak, he lost magic. He lost his power. And he lost his resistance to the elements.

Now he had no magic at all. Left with nothing but his born abilities, he had no choice but to hone them as best he could. Now the cold was of nothing to him. Even now, as it seeped into the skin he exposed more and more, he felt nothing but the lightest change in temperature.

He was like them now.

One of them.

The vibrating machine in his hand sent waves of energy down his arm as he ran it across his head again. The cold licked at him and he blinked impassively at his reflection.

The dim light in the room did nothing to help him see what he was doing. For all he knew, his efforts could be likened to that of a child.

He shrugged at himself and ran the ridged edge over his scalp again.

And again.

And again.

* * *

><p><em>The guards stood frozen around him as he writhed, his jaw locked and his eyes blurring with tears he refused to shed. He would not scream. He would not…<em>

_Thor could be heard beside him, questioning bellows echoing in his ears. _

_Loki blinked hard against the pain and spat onto the golden floor of Odin's Hall. _

_The Allfather was judging him, punishing him, and although Loki knew to expect it, he still could not help but feel the intense loathing that boiled in his chest. _

_Or was it the pain that was boiling?_

_He could not tell a difference._

_His magic was being stripped; all he had learned and all he had mastered, even that which could be called 'natural' to him being pulled from his body and mind with the force of a wildfire. Loki looked upward from his place upon the shining floor. Thor stared down at him with that same damnable look of pity and Loki wanted to curse him aloud._

_He could not find his voice._

_The pain was too much._

_For just a moment, he looked into Thor's eyes and saw something else. A look of understanding and empathy that made Loki grow still even as the pain grew more intense._

_Thor himself must have felt this too, as he flew backward into the gateway of the Bifrost on his way to Midgaard. He must have felt this searing agony as his armor shattered from his body and he fell into the wormhole, shooting across the stars and falling farther and farther down to land in the desert sands of Earth._

_For just a moment, Loki looked at Thor and felt no pain._

* * *

><p>He ran a hand across the bare skin.<p>

His scalp was not without the lightest prickle, evidence that the machine had only done so much. Still, it was effective enough.

Long locks of black hair curled around his feet. Some of it lay in the porcelain sink in front of him. Tiny remnants sat upon his bare shoulders.

Loki stepped back and looked at himself in the mirror, his eyes running along the expanse of naked skin and watching it turn a light blue. His gaze flicked to his face and saw the dark lines form on his head.

He blinked.

And the skin faded back to a pale white.

A hand landed at the waistband of his undergarment, and he considered it for a moment before deciding to leave it on.

Even _they_ had some level of modesty with such things…

* * *

><p><em>His teeth bore at the face of Odin Allfather.<em>

_The great King of Asgaard, the Lord of the Realm Eternal, the all-knowing and the ever-wise…._

_His father and teacher. _

_His judge and executioner._

_He was ready. Ready to take whatever else the golden King had to throw at him. Ready to scream in rage and spit upon the Allfather's gleaming boots as he did so._

_He was ready to die, if it came to such._

_Thor pulled him backward and half-supported his now limp and exhausted body as he was dragged across the Hall._

_Loki blinked back new tears._

_They were tears of fury._

_And only that._

* * *

><p>He was still staring at his reflection when a noise echoed to his ears.<p>

He looked up and saw the dim lights flicker out.

The room was cast into a gray haze and Loki blinked as his eyes adjusted.

A figure came to stand in the doorway behind him, footsteps so quiet that he barely heard the approach.

The man was always good at stealth tactics; Loki supposed it was one of the agent's few qualities he found admirable.

Although, if he were honest with himself, this man had treated him more fairly than many of the others. Loki knew that in truth he should be grateful. If any of them deserved his camaraderie, it should be this one…

But he was still a SHIELD agent.

And that fact alone made Loki sick.

Clint Barton's shadowy form lingered in the doorway and Loki knew the question was coming…

* * *

><p><em>It was months later and he was not surprised that it was Frigga that Odin had sent to retrieve him. <em>

_The comfort and isolation of his personal Hall was interrupted but Loki had expected it._

_He knew what they were waiting for._

_He knew what was to come._

_And so he found it not surprising, not surprising in the least, when Thor led him to the spot in the fields near the mountains where the Midgaard Bridge would open for them. In the distance he could see the edge of their own Bifrost, still hanging in shattered silence from the edge of the realm. It would not be repaired for many years. He knew this. They all knew it._

_Thor's explanation of Odin's judgment was not much of a surprise either. The Allfather believed it only fair that the mortals of Earth incarcerate him (or even execute him, should they see fit) for his crimes against their world. Asgaard's punishment had been applied. He was mortal. Weak. The one thing he loved had been taken from him._

_His power was no more._

_And so it was Earth's turn now…_

_Loki could not find it in his heart to really care what the humans chose to do with him._

* * *

><p>He met the dark eyes of Clint Barton in the deep shadows of the SHIELD washroom.<p>

And although he could see the man's alert gaze, confusion giving way to suspicion and finally to a blink of understanding, Loki knew the human's own eyesight could not penetrate the darkness enough to see his own emotions.

If, in fact, he had any to show…

Barton's voice was clipped and gruff, the sound of a tired and beaten man—and not just physically.

"Loki….what are you doing?"

He almost wanted to smirk at the archer.

Clint Barton was no fool.

He knew what was to transpire and he knew that he would do nothing to prevent it.

Loki could see it in his eyes.

He ran a hand across the rough shaven scalp of his head and started forward, brushing past him as he exited the room into the pervasive darkness of the halls.

"What does it look like? I'm saving the world."

* * *

><p><strong>Some EndNotes!<strong>

I would like to thank** _Selenite _**once again for supplying prompts, helping me to gather my thoughts with my own confusing stuffs, and being, all around, pretty damn awesome.

I would also like to thank **_Anonymous003 _**for listening to me babble about fic-ideas and taking it all in stride. You rock, Sophie Mei!

And of course, to **_every single person who reads this_ junk**: I humbly thank you from all sides of my heart-not just the bottom. ^.^

Please review my friends, they make me smile! :D


	2. A Sign Disregarded

**Hey folks!**

**Here's chapter two! Things should get moving a bit faster soon, but still no Jane yet: she may not appear for a bit longer! We'll see ^.^**

**Still setting things up; I hope you all enjoy!**

**Also, for those of you who enjoy music: I was inspired for this fic by the song _"Storm"_ by Devin Townsend. Good stuff. I highly recommend anything by him.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Jotun Occupation: Day 26<strong>_

The snow was thick, hardened and unyielding. It wasn't like the snow in the mountains of Asgaard. It wasn't soft. It wasn't friendly. It wasn't a fine powder of fun and play and laughter.

It was silent and abrasive, whipping through the air at all times, creating a gray haze of howling ice.

It was like the snow of Jotunheim, barely giving way beneath his feet and yet moving in the chaotic winds of the blizzard across the rest of his bare body.

Loki squinted against the storm and chose to peer downward as he walked, watching the pale toes on his feet sink just slightly with each step, instinctively gripping the frozen tundra that had become the New Mexico landscape.

The crackly crunch of his feet on the snow was deafened with each windy wail.

He knew that by now, the entire planet had become like this.

* * *

><p><em>He was amused and disgusted in the same moment, watching them negotiate his fate like he was a slave at auction.<em>

_He was amused because he could read their lips from his place in the holding cell, Thor's mouth often speaking words of agreement as the man called Nick Fury laid down the details and restrictions which would dictate how he was to be punished and treated here. _

_He was amused because they had quickly decided not to take his life. It was as if the very idea was taboo._

_It was also the very thing that disgusted him._

_Loki threaded his fingers into his unruly hair and tugged in frustration. This pack of mortals that Thor ran with was obviously one of the most powerful and influential groups of humans on Earth, their quiet commands and suggestions whispered in the darkest corners of the world to the highest authorities of the public eye, and the vast majority of mankind did not even know they existed._

_They could do anything, Loki knew. They could kill him without struggle or argument, they could strap him to a shining silver table and experiment on his now weak and mortal body, or they could throw their pretty cuffs and chains on him and force him to do their bidding._

_And yet, as Loki craned his head around the guard posted to his cell, he could see that Fury had no desire to do any of those things. The man instead sought to keep him confined within their ranks, restricted to their compound, never to leave and never to interact with too many people at one time._

_He was taking _mercy _on the adopted brother of his royal ally from the stars._

_And it made Loki positively ill._

* * *

><p>Night was falling quickly, and he already knew that there would be no stars to guide him this night, just as there were none the previous. Just as there was barely a sun to light the skies during the day.<p>

In the darkening silence, he felt his senses sharpen to attention.

The wind whispered through the ice and for a brief moment in time Loki felt it lull him.

He was somewhat tired, his legs buzzing with the awkward feeling of actual _work_. It was in these moments that he cursed Odin most for reducing him to such a pathetic state.

But even as he stopped to sit against an icy protrusion of rock, he knew that Odin could have done more.

The cold stone at his back did not bother him.

As the faintest remnants of light gave way to the nighttime snowfall, Loki propped his left arm on a raised knee and flipped his hand over.

The small compass strapped to his wrist was barely visible, but he could confirm his direction.

Barton had told him to head northwest. To bypass all other towns and cities until he found his destination.

To find the ones that could cast magic, and take him where he needed to be.

Loki leaned back and felt the ice and rock dig into the back of his unprotected head.

It did not hurt as much as it should have.

* * *

><p><em>He should have waited like a good little dog. <em>

_He should have known that it would be Rogers that would set him off, the young (and likewise old) soldier not one to hold back his opinions of those that he deemed impure and unworthy._

_He should have waited for the man to leave the dining area._

_But he did not._

"_You know what I think? I think Fury is being too light on you. I think, after _everything_ that you've done, you should at least be confined to a cell. If it were up to me, you wouldn't even _be here_. You'd be in Asgaard, or back home in Jotunheim where you belong-"_

_The chair flew across the room with the force at which he stood, lashing forth to press his entire body against the man who dared to speak to him like he was an underling; the plates of food on the table being scattered as he shoved with every ounce of his strength, a deep red penetrating his eyesight with a sudden rush of rage._

_The blade of ice that had formed in his hand was at the Captain's throat and the two SHIELD agents in the room were already just beside him, weapons pointed at his skull with promise. _

_Clint Barton did not remove the pistol from its position at his temple but moved his free hand to wrap around the blue flesh of Loki's arm, firm but slow as he coaxed the hovering blade away from its target. _

_Loki locked eyes with the sniper and found a hint of understanding that he wished he hadn't. His hand pulled back just enough._

_And Rogers shoved him away the moment the icy prick had left his skin._

_Natasha Romanoff, gun still trained and ready, nodded towards the pale blue of his hand._

"_Looks like Thor was wrong about you being human now." She did not give him a chance to remark, lowering her weapon just long enough to pull out a set of Stark-esque bindings from the pack at her waist._

_He watched her brush Rogers away and pin Barton with a grim look._

"_Inform Fury about this. Loki needs higher security."_

* * *

><p>Sunlight peeked through the dark clouds above him, casting a single sliver to bring him back to the waking world.<p>

He had not intended to actually sleep.

He pondered for a moment if he even _needed_ to do so.

Loki scowled and stood, back stretching as his limbs sang with rest and renewed energy. He wondered if the rest of them could grow tired. He wondered if their legs would ache if they walked so many miles, if their backs would pop if they sat stooped against a boulder for too long.

Or was he still different from them?

It was true enough that if Loki could bear to admit it, he had an obvious advantage that _they_ did not. Some of Odin's influence still lingered on his body, giving him control of his natural appearance.

The singular beam of sunlight ran across the now still and quiet snow towards him.

He also had a distinct disadvantage as well.

Some of them were sorcerers. They would cast magic, and powerfully, if needed. They could even move through the realms, should they find the hidden gateways scattered throughout the cosmos and utilize them.

It was how they got to Earth, he knew.

Loki peered upward as the light glinted against his eyes, fighting for life in the darkening skies.

He frowned. _They_ could move through the realms, and transport, without need for ships or vehicles or _walking_. _They _could, but he could not. Odin had taken that from him. It was why he'd assumed that he had been made human. Odin had stripped him of _all_ of his magic, all things not natural to humankind…..

But no, he was _not_ human. Odin had only taken the skills he had honed in Asgaard, as well as _some_ of those abilities that would be seen as part of his heritage.

It baffled him. Why would Odin leave him with some of his born powers, but forcibly steal others?

He could only conclude that either the old fool had grown too senile to punish him _thoroughly_, or the 'all-knowing' Allfather had done it with a purpose.

Loki raised his hand, watching the blue creep across his fingers and turn his nails black.

The single ray of light from the clouds warmed the dark skin for just a moment before succumbing to the gathering storm and fading altogether.

He breathed deep, willing his human form to return.

It did not matter what, if anything, Odin intended for him.

He had his own agenda to pursue.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviewness? ^.^<strong>


	3. Omniscience

**Hey guys!**

**I apologize for the long delay. A school-stress-induced mental block derailed me a bit. But I by no means forgot about this fic, or about you guys!**

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter; I used a different perspective to try to explain some things. **

**Let me know what you think so far!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Jotun Occupation of Earth: Day 26<strong>_

_**Asgaard**_

All was still; the air he breathed was cool and smooth, his lungs pulling it in deep and the lulling effect only just slightly registering in his mind before the low rumble met his ears once again.

He was finding it difficult to concentrate on his own thoughts with the consistent noise that echoed outside the golden halls. He could not move to find its source, nor open his eyes to look out the window, nor find his voice to command a guard to do it for him.

But then, he did not need to do any of those things to know what caused the growl-like thunder that clapped in intervals throughout the skies of Asgaard.

Odin knew, even in the deep, paralyzing state of the Great Sleep, that his son was at fault.

For even as he lay stationary and helpless, Odin could see him, and hear him, and feel the deep tremors of terror and rage that consumed him.

Thor's wrath reverberated through the realm and intensified with every passing day. But his storm-fits would not rebuild the Bifrost, or undo the damage the Jotuns had wrought upon both Asgaard and Earth.

And it certainly would not save the mortals he had come to adore so deeply.

Odin felt the rumble in his chest once again, and just briefly, felt a sadness overtake him. He sympathized with his blood-born, true enough…

But it was the knowledge that he _saw it coming_ that had Odin hitch in breath for but a split moment in time.

* * *

><p><em>He was not omniscient. They tried to call him so, along with many other titles that were actually quite shy of the truth. He was not all-knowing, nor all-seeing, and, despite the vast army of warriors and an entire realm of citizens that would protest, he was most certainly not all-powerful.<em>

_They sang his praises, and held him high, and called him 'Great King', 'Allfather', 'The Golden One', 'The Ever-Wise'…._

_And while his reign as king of Asgaard was long and great, and his battles victorious and filled with glory, and his word often accurate and always heeded, Odin was not a god._

_But that did not mean that he wasn't a being unlike all others before him, or many after. _

_Aside from Thor, he was the greatest warrior Asgaard had ever seen, and in his youth had matched his son's level of raw power and strength._

_Aside from Heimdall, he was the only other being in the realm that possessed a gift of Sight, and knew things that none other could know._

_As he aged, however, his strength began to fade, his son taking the position of physical power and leader of Asgaard's army._

_But his Sight did not fail him…._

_He could see the chaos to come: the blood that would run over the rainbow bridge, the ice that would coat the Earth and slowly kill it, the suffering of the mortals that inhabited it, and the struggle of Thor's Midgaardian allies- the 'Avengers' -to restore their frozen and desolate world._

_Odin frowned when Thor returned from Earth with news of Loki's defeat and capture._

_His son's words were lost as the visions hit him full force._

* * *

><p>Light steps met his ears, closing in with a softness that he easily recognized.<p>

A deep breath drew his chest in, a likewise full exhale pushing it out and into the palm that came to rest upon it.

Odin sensed his wife coming into the chamber even before she had entered.

He could feel her fingers tremble against his clothes, hear her silent breaths and smell the salt of her tears. Hypersensitive to all around him in the Sleep, he could even feel the air move when she leaned toward him.

He wanted to stop those tears, console his wife, and calm his son.

But he could do none of those things.

He could only lay and wait, painfully aware of every soul that felt pain in his kingdom.

* * *

><p><em>He would not tell them that he had seen flashes of the Jotun's bold move to bring an army against the realm.<em>

_He had learned, throughout his long, seemingly endless life, that the brief images of what was to come were a gift that only he could fathom, and to share such broken messages with the people would be something only a fool seeking a panic would do._

_After all, the foresight was not always distant; he did not see the Jotuns sneak into Asgaard the first time until they were but a few steps away from the Casket._

_But he did see Thor's melodramatic reaction to his interrupted coronation. He knew his son was in Jotunheim before the guard Loki had sent reached him with the news. It was but a small glimpse, of Mjolnir meeting Jotun flesh, but it was enough to tell him that his intervention was needed._

_And that punishment would be his firstborn's greatest ally._

* * *

><p>The soft fingers brushed his whiskers before stilling against his cheek.<p>

"Thor will not leave the distant fields. He glowers at the sky and roars at his inability to reach Earth and save it. He will not listen to his friends; he will not listen to me. I have tried to tell him, Odin. I have tried to have him visit Heimdall and hear what has happened…."

The whisper of Frigga's voice trailed, hesitant, as if caught revealing a knowledge she was not meant to have. Odin wanted to tell her not to worry. He wanted to tell her what _he_ had seen.

Never before had he detested the Odinsleep so greatly.

* * *

><p><em>It was as Thor relayed the news of Loki's slow recovery in the facility known as 'SHIELD Headquarters' that Odin saw the images pass in front of his eyes; the sky ripping as the long-restrained sorcerers of Jotunheim tore through the passage Loki had revealed to them, hundreds of black-blue figures stepping forth to cast the Great Realm into chaos. Their monsters roared and carved a path through the unprepared army that struggled despite Thor's quick leadership. The image was clear, and his son's words were whispers in the background.<em>

_Just as the deep black form of their new king stepped into his sight, he blinked._

_And the vision was gone._

_Odin looked at his son, noting the concern for his defeated brother flashing in his eyes._

_He nodded as Thor told him of Loki's injuries and the efforts of this 'SHIELD' to both care for and keep him contained._

_He said nothing of what he had seen._

_For although he knew what was to take place, he did not know _when_._

_And it was not his place to interfere._

_He was a king. Not a god._

* * *

><p>Frigga's voice seemed farther away now, her steps circling him as she seemed to both speak to him and think aloud to herself:<p>

"Heimdall told me that he saw Loki leave the facility the mortals kept him confined to. He told me that he'd heard Loki speak of trying to help them….."

She stopped just behind his head, and he could feel her look down at him.

"Why? Why would he suddenly wish to aide those that he'd once tried to conquer? And why would he think that he could? He is all but mortal now himself….isn't he?"

Frustration and confusion radiated from her in waves, and Odin almost wanted to smile.

"I tried to tell Thor. But all he seems to care about are his mortal friends. This 'Jane Foster' especially has him fretful. Tell me, Odin….with one son in a blind rage and the other trudging through the frozen earth on an impossible mission…what am I supposed to think? What can I possibly hope for?"

His almost-smile never came, and for a moment, Odin forgot that he could not move anyway.

A sigh escaped Frigga, a sign of her self-defeat.

With steps that now sounded heavy with sadness and irritation, he heard her exit.

And he was again alone to think of what was to come.

* * *

><p><em>It was unfortunate that the long sleeps were coming to him now without warning.<em>

_He was already frozen, helpless, and useless, by the time his vision came into reality. And it was not until they had already attacked that he realized, as the guards surrounded his still body and Frigga sat whispering frantic words into his ear- and Thor struck dozens of Jotun bodies down in a hail of lightning- that it was not war that the monstrous army had come for at all._

_The images of the sorcerers- once banished to the distant frozen fringes of Jotunheim as demanded by Odin's treaty with Laufey—appeared before his closed eyes, using magic of both destructive and manipulative natures to break past the guards at the vault and entering in a cloud of black mist and ice._

_It was all he needed to see, and all he needed to know._

_It did not surprise him to hear Frigga at his ear again not long after, telling him that the Jotuns had suddenly retreated and disappeared from Asgaard in the middle of battle._

_And it did not surprise him that the only things taken from the vault were the Casket and the Tesseract, both returned to the assumed safe haven of Asgaard when Thor had brought Loki back to face his punishment._

_It was all they would need to restore the power that he had once stripped them of so many years before._

_And it was all they would need to turn Earth into the new Jotunheim._

* * *

><p>The thunder cracked in the distance, the mountains of Asgaard taking punishment that they did not deserve.<p>

Odin felt Thor's anger become desperation, his shame and helplessness driving him to near madness.

And then, for the first time in many days, it stopped, a sudden silence piercing the air like the loudest shout.

All was quiet, all was still.

And Odin felt his heart ache as he heard, from miles away, the sound of Thor's broken sob.

He wanted to tell his son what only he knew, the last glimpse of a future occurrence that he could neither pinpoint nor fully understand.

Odin felt certain that the image of Loki, skin blue and eyes red as blood, staring into the face of the woman known as Jane Foster, held a positive outlook for the oppressed and dying people of Earth.

But then…

He was not omniscient.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: My take on Odin in this fic was inspired by some readings from the myths, as well as the portrayal of him in Mike Vasich's novel, _Loki_.**

**And maybe the myths inspired my angry-Thunder-God-Thor just a bit ;)**


End file.
